In the Black of the Night
by TheNeuroticGryffindor
Summary: After the final battle she was left with nothing. The wizarding world was in destruction. Then, fate brings an anonymous benefactor, who offers her a chance for a new beginning.  Full summary is inside! SSHG. Post war. Rating may change.
1. Prologue

A/N: This story started out as a plot bunny and kind of emerged from there. I haven't written a fanfiction in a long time, so I apologize if I sometimes get OOC. Feel free to offer any advice or tips! And lastly, please have patience if my updates are sporadic. It's summer and we all know that things get hectic. Lol.

Summary: After the final battle, Hermione is left with no job and no place to live. Most of Wizarding Britain is destroyed, people are missing, and much is left in destruction. She is left fending for herself out on the streets of Britain, barely making enough to survive. Out of sheer luck, an anonymous benefactor contacts her, telling her that he is aware of her adept knowledge of the sciences and will provide her a way of living as long as she comes to work for him on a research project. What happens next is a long story. Are you willing to listen to it? HG/SS.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, settings, or plot lines expressed in the books. However, I'd like to. Hehe.

Prologue 

It was over.

It was finally over.

She didn't know what feelings to express. Joy was a possibility, but with all of the deaths how could that be appropriate? Sorrow was another, but the good had finally defeated the evil.

Dropping to her knees, she stared wide eyed at the open grassland that the battle had taken place in, right in front of the castle nonetheless. Bodies of former Order members lay bloodied and broken among the corpses of Death Eaters. Hermione had never thought that the battle would have been as spectacular as it had. Voldemort and Harry dueled it out in a glorious show of colored hexes and spells. Death Eaters and Order members had fought endlessly, without food or sleep, for almost an entire twenty-four hours.

So many had been lost in that ugly war. Her old professors Fitwick and Sinistra both died in a duel with Bellatrix (who later died courtesy of Harry), and some of her classmates including Dean and Seamus were also murdered in the brutal effort to regain sanity in the wizarding world. One question still poked at the back of her mind: How would the wizarding world bounce back from this, and if they could, would it ever be the same? She felt as if she had lost everything, every shred of a connection to her old life with comforting fireplaces and books at her side. The world seemed so raw, so brutal, how would they survive?

She was shaken out of her reverie by a bandaged hand on her shoulder. Harry. If there was anyone that she was indebted to more than anything it was him. He sacrificed his childhood to fight for the good of mankind…all of mankind, including defenseless muggles.

"Come on….there's still some Death Eaters who escaped and who knows if they'll come back for revenge." God he looked so old. He was only seventeen, but in mind and spirit he could pass for an old man. He was so young but had seen so much…

"Right," she mumbled. Rising to her feet she allowed him to guide her to the infirmary for the treatment of her wounds and out of the dangerous battlefield.

Later that day, a short ceremony was held for those who were lost. Then, a ceremonial burning of the bodies was held in a symbol of their spirits rising to watch upon the rebirth of the wizarding community. Minerva gave a short speech about the valor of those who fought, and then the crowd departed. Some went to the reception being held in the Great Hall, and others returned to their homes to rest and mourn the loss of their friends and family.

Hermione didn't know what to do. She knew she couldn't handle seeing the grieving faces of those who remained by returning to the reception at Hogwarts, but she had no where else to go. Harry and Ginny had left to return to their hiding place out in the country. They still couldn't risk being found by Death Eaters, especially since Harry rekindled their relationship which made them all the more vulnerable to attacks.

Pushing a stray curl out of her eyes, she sat down under an old oak tree and tore the grass with her fingers as she perused her other options. Ron and Lavender had also departed, back to his brother Charlie in Romania until the dangerous time was over. Lavender was expecting their first child, and they didn't want to raise it in this mournful atmosphere.

Hermione didn't have any family anymore since her parents were killed in a brutal attack on muggle London, and whatever belongings she had left were either lost or destroyed.

Yes, it was true. She could return to Hogwarts, but what would she find there? Depression and emptiness for sure. The atmosphere seemed dead inside of the castle, and that feeling permeated into the surrounding territories.

She decided to rent a room for a night at The Leaky Cauldron until she found a solution to her current debacle. She had enough saved up for a few nights at the Cauldron and a few meals, but not much else.

Making her way towards the apparition point at Hogwarts, she took a last look at the destruction and a slight 'pop' announced her departure, which went unnoticed by all except one.

Author's Note: Please Read and Review!


	2. Anonymous Donations

A/N: In advance, I apologize if this chapter does not flow well. I'm in a rush to finish this chapter partly because a.) I'm very excited by the direction this story will take and I want to get past the boring introductory chapters and b.) I want to get another chapter out for you all before I'm gone for a few days as I attend the Order of the Phoenix premiere in D.C. (woot!). I'm dressing up as Luna, so if any of you have costume ideas I'm welcome to them. PM me if anything doesn't make sense here or if you just want to know how the premiere went. Ciao all!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.

Chapter One: Anonymous Donations

Standing in the shadows of a damaged statue, Severus Snape felt different somehow. He was ecstatic that the war had ended, that he wouldn't have to constantly be the pawn in a chess game of life and death, but his impassive stare did not betray his feelings, a remnant of his days as a spy. Kicking a piece of broken wand with his ebony boots, he stared at the fading dark mark on his left forearm. He wondered if any of this was real, or just a dream with a really sick sense of humor.

During the middle of the year, just days prior to the final battle, his name had been cleared when the discovery of his Unbreakable Vow with Dumbledore emerged.

The Wizengamot had erased his name from their wanted list after a letter from high powered Order members told them of the agreement where, if Dumbledore were endangered in view of Death Eaters by an unwilling soul, Severus was obligated to finish him off to prevent an innocent from marring their soul.

As he fingered the edges of his old wand, the wood grain smooth from years of use, Severus pondered his feelings.

He knew he shouldn't care. He knew he shouldn't feel what he did. But, as much as he disliked it, feelings concern plagued his psyche. He had witnessed the Granger girl leave unnoticed by the others. Naturally a curious mind, and one who couldn't stand being out of the loop, he wondered where she was going, and what she was going to do now that the other two that comprised the precious _trio_ were moving on with their lives.

Plucking his wand from a concealed pocket inside of his practically shredded robes, Severus disapparated from the scene to return to his old home, Spinner's End, to begin packing.

It was in the twilight hours when Hermione awoke to the sounds of a bar brawl below her room at The Leaky Cauldron.

"Not again…," she muttered as she made her way to the lavatory. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she leapt in shock. She had gone straight to bed after registering for a room, so tired from the final battle. Hair as thick as a bush stood out in every direction, covered with dirt and leaves. Her normally pale, creamy skin was stained with blood and dirt, sweat and tears, and scratches marred her pretty face. More dirt had lodged itself under her broken nails, and her robes were shredded.

"Well, I believe a bath is in order" she stated to herself as she made her way to the tub, filling it with every type of bath oil she could find.

After soaking her sore and tired muscles, and scrubbing her skin clean, she turned and pulled the plug from the drain, watching the brown water disappear in a whirlpool.

Changing into a pair of muggle jeans and a black tee shirt, she made her way into her room and glanced at the clock. "Three o'clock", it chimed, as the hands moved to the exact positions.

Deciding that sleep was probably going to avoid her again, Hermione went downstairs to the bar for a hot cup of tea.

After neatly packing all of his belongings, Severus shrank the parcels to the size of a quarter and placed them into his pocket. He had decided to move to a different home, as his old childhood home that he currently resided in held too many unwanted memories. He had been saving his extravagant salary from Hogwarts for years, receiving notices of the ever growing pile of gold in his Gringotts vault. Since he had lived at the school, he never had to pay for living expenses, so his savings had accumulated to…well let's just say it's a lot.

Making his way out of the house, he glanced back at the old wooden door, the black paint cracked and peeling with age and decay. As a multitude of childhood memories flew through his mind, he decided that a strong drink was in order. A small 'pop' was the only signal of his departure.

"Well what'll it be for yeh sweetheart?", asked the bartender, leering over at Hermione and speaking in a thick Irish brogue.

Ignoring the unwarranted term of endearment, Hermione asked for a cup of Earl Grey and sat back in the bar stool. She glanced to her right and noticed the day's pile of Daily Prophets that were most likely going to be delivered to the rooms later on that day.

"Can I have one of these please?", she asked politely, holding up an edition to the bartender.

"O' course ye can missy, and 'ere is yer cup o' tea", he replied, handing her the chipped porcelain cup.

She was about to reply with a thank you when a cold burst of wind announced the arrival of a new customer. Her heart literally sank to her stomach when her old potions professor strode in and took a seat at a table far from the rest in a dark, secluded corner of the pub.

By a quick look at the expression on his worn face, she decided against greeting him and turned back to the bar, pretending that she had not seen him and hoping that he had not seen her. Little did she know that her attempt was in vain.

He didn't understand why he was so rapt with watching her. In fact, it felt down right wrong. Did this war turn him into one of the lewd Death Eaters he had been forced to be in contact with?

It felt wrong when a slight smirk escaped from his lips, shadowed by the heavy black hood that he wore to conceal himself, as she took a napkin and began to wipe the rim of the cup. It was an old spy's trick, in case someone was trying to poison them or contaminate them in some way. In her case, since the war was over, it was a force of habit.

Frowning, he noticed the ragged state of her clothing and the dark circles under her eyes. 'Had she no sleep or money to buy nicer robes?' he thought to himself as he swirled his whiskey around in its bottle before downing it in one gulp, relishing the burning sensation it created as it flowed down his throat.

She continued to sit there, for a good fifteen minutes, before downing the rest of her drink and standing to pay the bartender. She frowned as she dug through her purse, pulling out numerous knuts in order to pay for her two galleon drink. 'Surely she couldn't be that low on cash?'

Just after she paid the bartender and began to make her way up the stairs, she heard the man call her. "Miss? Missy! Wait a moment!"

"Have I not paid fully?" she asked, a questioning look on her face.

"No, a kind gentlemen wanted me to give yeh this 'ere bag o' something. I think it's cash…" he stated, whispering the last part as he wiggled the leather pouch for effect. Sure enough the sound of metal colliding resounded.

Hermione glanced suspiciously around the room, making sure that the reporters weren't there to write their next story about the war hero going broke, and snatched the bag from his hands, placing it inside of her cloak.

"Who gave that to you?" she asked.

"I dunno 'is name, but 'e was sittin' 'ight there," he replied, pointing to the table where Snape had sat.

As she turned towards the door, a cold breeze hit her face, and a cloaked figure slipped from sight.

A/N: Read and review please!


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